THE TEXAS COWBOY AND THE
MEXICAN GREASER
I THINK we can all remember when a Greaser hadn't no show
In Palo Pinto particular,— it ain't very long ago;
A powerful feelin' of hatred ag'in the whole Greaser race
That murdered bold Crockett and Bowie pervaded all in the place.
Why, the boys would draw on a Greaser as quick as they would on a steer;
They was shot down without warnin' often, in the memory of many here.
One day the bark of pistols was heard ringin' out in the air,
And a Greaser, chased by some ranchmen, tore round here into the square.
I don't know what he's committed,—'tain't likely anyone knew,—
But I wouldn't bet a check on the issue; if you knew the gang, neither would you.
Breathless and bleeding, the Greaser fell down by the side of the wall;
And a man sprang out before him,— a man both strong and tall,—
By his clothes I should say a cowboy,— a stranger in town, I think,—
[p. 12] With his pistol he waved back the gang, who was wild with rage and drink.
"I warn ye, get back!" he said, "or I'll blow your heads in two!
A dozen on one poor creature, and him wounded and bleeding, too!"
The gang stood back for a minute; then up spoke Poker Bill:
"Young man, yer a stranger, I reckon. We don't wish yer any ill;
But come out of the range of the Greaser, or, as sure as I live, you'll croak;"
And he drew a bead on the stranger. I'll tell yer it wa'n't no joke.
But the stranger moven' no muscle as he looked in the bore of Bill's gun;
He hadn't no thought to stir, sir; he hadn't no thought to run;
But he spoke out cool and quiet, "I might live for a thousand year
And not die at last so nobly as defendin' this Greaser here;
For he's wounded, now, and helpless, and hasn't had no fair show;
And the first of ye boys that strikes him, I'll lay that first one low."
The gang respected the stranger that for another was willing to die;
They respected the look of daring they saw in that cold, blue eye.
[p. 13] They saw before them a hero that was glad in the right to fall;
And he was a Texas cowboy,— never heard of Rome at all.
Don't tell me of yer Romans, or yer bridge bein' held by three;
True manhood's the same in Texas as it was in Rome, d'ye see?
Did the Greaser escape? Why certain. I saw the hull crowd over thar
At the ranch of Bill Simmons, the gopher, with their glasses over the bar.
From recitation. Anonymous.
BRONCHO VERSUS BICYCLE
THE first that we saw of the high-tone tramp
War over thar at our Pecos camp;
He war comin' down the Santa Fe trail
Astride of a wheel with a crooked tail,
A-skinnin' along with a merry song
An' a-ringin' a little warnin' gong.
He looked so outlandish, strange and queer
That all of us grinned from ear to ear,
And every boy on the round-up swore
He never seed sich a hoss before.
Wal, up he rode with a sunshine smile
An' a-smokin' a cigarette, an' I'll
Be kicked in the neck if I ever seen
Sich a saddle as that on his queer machine.
Why, it made us laugh, fer it wasn't half
Big enough fer the back of a suckin' calf.
He tuk our fun in a keerless way,
A-venturin' only once to say
Thar wasn't a broncho about the place
Could down that wheel in a ten-mile race.
I'd a lightnin' broncho out in the herd
That could split the air like a flyin' bird,
[p. 15] An' I hinted round in an off-hand way,
That, providin' the enterprize would pay,
I thought as I might jes' happen to light
On a hoss that would leave him out er sight.
In less'n a second we seen him yank
A roll o' greenbacks out o' his flank,
An' he said if we wanted to bet, to name
The limit, an' he would tackle the game.
Jes' a week before we had all been down
On a jamboree to the nearest town,
An' the whiskey joints and the faro games
An' a-shakin' our hoofs with the dance hall dames,
Made a wholesale bust; an', pard, I'll be cussed
If a man in the outfit had any dust.
An' so I explained, but the youth replied
That he'd lay the money matter aside,
An' to show that his back didn't grow no moss
He'd bet his machine against my hoss.
I tuk him up, an' the bet war closed,
An' me a-chucklin', fer I supposed
I war playin' in dead-sure, winnin' luck
In the softest snap I had ever struck.
An' the boys chipped in with a knowin' grin,
Fer they thought the fool had no chance to win.
An' so we agreed fer to run that day
To the Navajo cross, ten miles away,—
As handsome a track as you ever seed
Fer testin' a hosses prettiest speed.
[p. 16]